DOOM SAGA I - I'll be home tomorrow

Job 19:28-29

Argent d'Nur

After the first knock kept unanswered a fist pounded on the door impatiently.
"Open up, Slayer! Now!"
The door was ripped open and a seemingly wary Slayer met the man at the door nearly eye to eye.
"We need to talk.", the stranger said calmly. Behind him, eight other sentinels stood in uniform.
The Slayer hesitated as he stood still, his eyes boring into the man's face, his stature blocking the doorway. He stepped back but kept his sight on each of them as they one by one entered the huge room.

It stretched a good 25 metres from side to side and was more than half of that from the entrance to the windows on the opposite wall, which came from the ceiling, 10 metres in height, all the way down to the floor. Two fireplaces kept it warm even in the unbearable temperatures of the long winter, one across the doorway, one at the right wall. The middle was furnished with three comfortable couches and a flat table, as well as multiple side-tables, all in dark red fabric and bronze coloured woods and created a half-moon in front of the fire.
To the left of it was the bed, unreal three by three metres of softest cushion and silken veils that hung from the poster frame. Unusually elegant for that the rest of the design was rather rough and chunky. Manly, she thought, industrial yet old. Like Vikings in the modern ages.
Where she sat, on the very opposite end of where the bed was, she enjoyed the rays of warmth from the second, a little smaller, fireplace. The room was still cold as it had not been used until today. On the shelves that covered the walls up to a still reachable height on this end, she found many books in languages she knew, even books she had read herself. In between lay weapons, figurines and stuff she could not recognise. But she was sure it was all his, untouched for decades, yet no dust on them.
This room was truly worthy of a royal, though she imagined there were even bigger and shinier chambers in this building. She held the towel with chunks of ice in it against the side of her face as her one open eye read the spines of one book after the other. She shrieked as a voice called from the door and a fist pounded loudly. He grunted, but went to open it.
„We need to talk.", the stranger said and to her disquiet he let them enter. Not all of the guards entered, and the ones that did keep to the entrance area.
„You know why I am here, Slayer.", he said and slowly crept closer, his big boots thumped on the stone floor. The Slayer stood and blocked the path that lead past the long dining table and some cabinetry. The stranger did not wear armoury like the guards, nor a weapon as she stared at him in fright. She felt her heartbeat quicken from the sheer sight of another one of these generals.
„He said you tried to kill him. You know what that would mean, even for you.", he said at first, but then relaxed and sighed.
„But I know you better than this. And I believe I also know why..."
His head turned as he looked directly at her. He waved his hand and all of the guards but two left the room. She could see his soft and worried gaze. He was not like the other one, she saw that.
Both tall men looked at each other for a moment, and the Slayer relaxed as well and nodded, holding his gaze. When he finally stepped aside the other laid his hand on his shoulder as he passed him by, moving closer. He went slow and made no hasted movements, holding his hands in clear sight for her. She stiffened as he stopped two metres away. He waited a moment, saw her fear calm. He did not take his eyes off her for a second, even as the Slayer moved behind his back.
„May I?", he asked in a soft tone. She fidgeted, adjusting the cooling in her grip, her right eye nervously searching for the Slayer's approval and back at him. She nodded once. He kneeled down, again slowly, his hand barely reaching for her elbow so she would show it to him. He grunted and looked away as he condemned what he saw. Shame and empathy brought wet to his eyes as they pleaded. He took her free hand in his, kissed its back and held it to his forehead.
„Io. Your pain is my failure. Do not forgive me, for it is unforgivable."
He looked up to her, thinking for a moment as he seemed to memorise what he saw.
„My name is Lorz and I am the highest owl. That means I am in charge of the guards, and from now on will make sure to keep you safe, wherever and whenever. I will choose the ones in front of your door myself, two shifts, four men, my sons included.", he moved his head to the two standing there, they nodded.
„Their only objective will be to serve you. YOU. Not him. Okay?", he said and looked at her if she understood. She did not move at first but then nodded timidly. He got up again and stood at the point in the middle between her and the Slayer.
„We knew there were people who stirred up a different kind of thinking in the civilians and our ranks as well. But I never thought it would be this bad... They disdain the culture as it is now, long for the old times. Though none of them could even imagine it as it has been decades, if not centuries since the Makyrs started to change everything. The young folk grew up in what was left after the war, the generation before them in the oppression of the Makyrs, forgot our true culture, our traditions, everything... And old men take this as a chance to get rid of... you."
The Slayer's frown deepened at his words.
„But they are few. And now that you are back and we know where to start looking... whom to ask questions... we will cure this mental pestilence. Let us talk later, and strike while the iron is hot. I will call a gathering, as usual, please be my guest, Great Slayer."
The Slayer huffed and moved, not a nod but neither a shake. Lorz gave them another look before he walked out the door and both men followed in silence. The Slayer followed, taking a look at the new guards in front of the entrance before closing the tall double-winged door.
He waited at the door for a moment, thinking, growling and mumbling to himself, before he came back over to her. She was already standing, trying her best to walk to the bed, using the table, the chairs, everything she could hold on to as support. She wasn't well. Not at all. His stomach churned like hers and he caught her just in time when she bent forward forcefully and vomited. There wasn't a lot in her, to begin with. It was past midday already, but she would not want to eat now anyway. As he held her head and body, his arm tightly around her narrow hips he felt her fight against him. When he let her down she scrambled away, sitting against the wooden back of the bed. She hiccuped a few times, swallowing that awful taste back down and began to weep and cuss.
„Why did you let them i-in?!", she yelled angrily, suppressing her voice so not everybody could hear her.
„WHY?!", she asked again and sobbed harder, breaking under the flood of emotions. She wiped her tears and flinched as she touched her bruised side, making her cry even more violently. He came closer, but she shrugged his hand off her knee and hissed at him, and when he tried again, she immediately crawled away from him around the edge of the bed and huddled next to the nightstand. He was confused but also understood.
She sat there in the corner for a while, shuffling her feet whenever she became uncomfortable and her cries subsided to a quiet sniffle or gasp now and then. He had taken the time to unpack his bag at the other side of the bed, rearranged some furniture to his better liking and checked if everything was still in place. He did his best to create no loud noise to startle her, yet kept a keen eye on the girl. He felt an indescribable and very nauseating poison run through every corner of his body and knew it was what she was feeling right now. He had only experienced her like this a few times and knew she needed some time and space to figure out herself again.

The sun had already gone down early, as the snowstorm was finally coming down the valley. The fires were already dancing more agitated from the winds picking up when a noise came from the door. A doorbell? She heard low voices, did not understand them through the mist of drowsiness and sick. She noticed his shadow before she noticed his footsteps or the darkness that had taken over the room. He sat down beside her, her swollen eyes failed to focus on him against the bright fire in the background. A damp washcloth suddenly rubbed over all her face, firmly but also carefully avoiding the darkening area of her eye and cheek. He cleaned her snot and flaky tears away as she moaned unpleased and battled his touch weakly. But the bowl of food woke her interest. It was just some mono-coloured mush but it was sweet, reminding her of rice pudding. She only managed half of it down her throat until she set it aside and closed her eyes. Her cheeks were still full like a squirrel but she didn't care as she felt her head sink further and further and sleep was taking over once more. She still didn't feel much better, but the catharsis and the tiredness made her stop thinking. She climbed onto the bed, struggling as it was higher than expected, and curled into a ball.

He had barely put the dishes aside when she was already gone. He put some more logs into the fires and lay down on the other side of the bed, happy to rest his heavy limbs as well.
A sudden flash of lighting made him tear his eyes wide open, as the deafening bang of thunder let the world quiver. His hand had immediately reached for her, his hand gripping the soaked and still warm sheets. She was not there. He sat up and tried to find her, but the room was dark, the fires burned to glimmering embers. Outside the snowstorm was now in full force, wind probably blowing the blinding wall of ice sideways as he had seen it many times and was even strong enough to rattle the sturdy windows. He heard a quiet gasp and his eyes darted to the window closest to the bed. As he adjusted to the night he slowly began to see her outline in front of the storm. Another strike of lighting, just as close as the first one, blinded him for a moment, but not without leaving him with the sight of a gargoyle-like creature on the balustrade in his mind. He blinked confused, she had not even winced at the impact. She stood there in silence, an inch away from the glass and stared outside, breathing slow and deep as if she was sleepwalking. He started to climb over the bed and focused on the storm outside, the hairs on his body tingling from the sensation of being watched. He felt like he had eaten an energy cell and with trembling hands, he sneaked closer to her, only a couple of feet between them. As he glared over her head, a shadow formed hidden in the white. His eyes widened and he wanted to grab her and pull her away from whatever it was, but she was quicker. The sliding doors to the balcony opened wide and a blast of flakes entered the room as she stepped outside into the ankle-deep snow. He leapt, but moved no an inch as his feet were glued to the floor, his body heavy and slow like molten rock.
A calm bubble of wind-less snow surrounded her as the shadow stood before her, straightening their posture, a hulky seven to eight feet tall thing obscured by the night. the bubble grew and the storm seemed to calm further, silence replacing the raging blizzard.
He couldn't move, not yell, not even whisper. His heart was in his mouth as he watched it reach for her, more than one pair of arms embracing her, touching her. But when it did, a soft glow, like a candle, flickered and made her figure draw a stronger contrast against the darkness. He heard a whisper, no, multiple ones, and screeches of creatures surfing the wild winds of the storm clouds, as suddenly the snow stopped and the twisting clouds left a gap in their middle, like the core of a hurricane, for the moonlight to shine through. The harsh brightness let all the detail be clearly seen and he stopped breathing for a moment as he recognized what it was. He stumbled and tripped as his feet were free again but he was still tensed to jump, and he got up just in time to catch the feeble body. She was burning hot in his arms and the flakes that softly landed on her skin only took moments to evaporate. But besides that, everything looked normal. He looked up to the still engulfed in light wraith and the ones still circling the hole in the clouds, his body shaking in anticipation of danger.
Would he dare to fight them?
Yes. He would.
If they threatened the life in his arms.
One of the extremities reached for him, and he held his breath as it touched his head lightly.

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